You are Your own Worst Enemy
by saberstorm
Summary: Before Dr. Poe, someone else was Artemis Fowl's physiologist, but only for one meeting. It was not, however, due to something Artemis said. In fact, the school never knew he had the appointment at all. A one-shot I had to try. AxH mentioned at the end.


You are Your own Worst Enemy

Summary: Before Dr. Poe, someone else was Artemis Fowl's physiologist, but only for one meeting. It was not, however, due to something Artemis said. In fact, the school never knew he had the appointment at all.

Insert Standard Disclaimer here.

* * *

Artemis Fowl the Second strode in through the doors. One would think, that after six psychiatrists had quit on him, that the school would just give up. But no, it wasn't to be. However, he was on guard and wary the second he stepped through the doors. This particular psychiatrist had requested to meet him, and that made him suspicious.

One did not succeed in stealing gold from the People and not be wary for a little bit of vengeance from their end.

"Have a seat, or stand if you wish," the psychiatrist said, his back to Artemis and digging into a cupboard. "I could care less. Would you like something to drink?"

_Trying to lower my guard, are we?_ Artemis thought, sitting down carefully. "No, doctor. Thank you."

The man, still turned away from Artemis, began fussing with a teapot that had obviously been heating on the small stove supplied for the room for those who enjoyed tea or making coffee the old fashioned way. "Then I will make you some Earl Grey anyway, just in case you prefer some latter," he answered, pouring two cups and placing them on a tray. As he walked over to the chair opposite of Artemis, the boy got a good look at the man, a view that unnerved him.

The psychiatrist was, first of all, short, about 4'9, had jet black hair that was tied into a ponytail, and skin that resembled polished copper. But what intrigued Artemis the most was the man's face. His eyes were mismatched: one was blue like Artemis' own eyes, and the other was a dark hazel. Even more prominent was the scar that ran from the man's right temple, down across his jaw and throat, ending on the lower part of the left side of his neck.

"An attempt on my life, years ago, Master Fowl," the man said, placing the tray on the coffee table between them. "Were it not for a member of you family, I would not be alive to tell the tale."

"So, you've done business with Father then?" Artemis asked slowly, ignoring the tea. "I've never heard of you, Dr. Wolf."

Said doctor picked up his own cup and smiled, a smile that resembled Artemis' own vampiric grin, "Not with your father, no. However, my family has been involved with yours in the past, therefore, I am not without my own... connections."

Artemis tried to keep his rising paranoia in check. This man seemed to be dangerous, and yet friendly all at the same time. "Is that a threat, Doctor?"

"A warning, Artemis. While I agree the last six so-called psychiatrists had no right to pass any kind of judgment upon you so quickly, I will tell you that I am not impressed, nor will I be fooled by any of your previous antics. Furthermore, I am skilled enough in the martial arts to give your own faithful bodyguard – who is currently waiting outside, no doubt – a run for his money. Game of chess?"

To say that the question caught Artemis off guard would be an understatement. He highly doubted that Dr. Wolf could match Butler in a competition, but since the man was making it quite clear he would tolerate no trouble, he decided to let the unspoken challenge rest for the time being. That didn't mean he couldn't prove his displeasure at the doctor's statements though. "I'll take black," he answered. "You will need the advantage."

They began to play, neither saying much of anything until Dr. Wolf suddenly asked, "Why do you enjoy antagonizing others? Is it your nature, or a choice on your part?"

"I only give respect to those who deserve it," Artemis answered, moving another piece.

"Indeed. You see, Artemis, to most of the world there are two kinds of people: those who think a person or group is the problem, and those who think the world is the problem," Wolf moved a piece of his own, effectively blocking Artemis' strategy. "You and I fit in a different category, where we make our own rules."

"Don't assume to know me," Artemis warned.

"Is your father alive, Artemis?" Wolf asked sharply.

Artemis answered without hesitation, "Yes."

"And you are going to find him?"

"Yes."

"With stolen funds?"

Artemis froze. Did this man know about the People? Did he know about the recent siege on Fowl Manor? If he did, was he some sort of agent for the LEP?

Wolf laughed at Artemis' hesitation, "You mask your face well, but your eyes give you away. How else would you find him? You are a Fowl, a criminal. As an old man once said, 'Fowl by name and Foul by nature'. Why do you insist that your father is alive when everyone else insists he is dead? Because you are a Fowl, and you know he's alive."

Moving a piece, Artemis fumed internally. He shouldn't have allowed himself to come here before trying to research this Dr. Wolf beforehand. The request had arrived so quickly that he had had little time to prepare. There was something about this psychiatrist that unnerved him greatly, something that made him feel like friend and foe alike. "How much do you know?"

"I know much about your family, Artemis, which is why I wanted to meet you," Dr. Wolf answered. "You say that 'Gold is Power', and that may be true, but only to a certain point. After that, it becomes like the Curse of Midas; a plague that eats away at everything you care for. Some of your ancestors made that mistake, and your father has probably just learned how far he can go before it becomes a plague for him.

"Wherever your father is, do you think he's thinking about money. No. He's thinking about you, the son he never truly took the time to be a father too. He's thinking about his wife, your mother, whom he made promises that he intended to keep, and will never fulfill.

"If we were to use this chessboard as an example, let us look at what is commonly used to represent good and evil: white and black. Your family history is filled with good criminals, and bad criminals. There is a difference, Artemis. My question to you is, are you white..." The doctor paused, moving his queen, "... or black. What you do today will affect generations of Fowls in the future. You are your own worst enemy. Checkmate."

Artemis stared at the board, unable to believe that he had just lost at chess, and to a complete stranger as well. Yet his brain could also comprehend the lesson Dr. Wolf was trying to tell him. There was a line that he, Artemis Fowl, must never cross. Otherwise, he would loose everything.

Worse was the reality that that line could not be pushed. It was a set boundary, impossible to manipulate, and unforgiving. Dr. Wolf was giving him a warning to not cross that line. What scared Artemis was that he may have crossed that line already, not that he would admit it.

"I have a challenge for you, Artemis Fowl," the doctor said. "I want you to make a friend out of a complete stranger, someone you have never seen before in your entire life, and it must be face to face; a physical encounter. This friend must be different from you in every way, and yet accept you for who you are. When you can complete my challenge, then you can call yourself a true genius, and we will meet again. You may go now."

Artemis stood, but paused at the door, turning back, "Why do you say that I am not a genius. I know I am one, regardless of what you say."

"By your definition, yes," Dr. Wolf answered. "But in my book, you are an Intellectual, someone who is a natural in mental abilities, the physical sciences, and the like. A bookworm, if you'll pardon the expression. A true genius is an Intellectual who can also socialize with anyone, regardless of age or maturity, something you lack."

"Well, doctor, I'm going to have to disagree with your definition," Artemis retorted, feeling slightly insulted. He then turned and left.

Three days later, Artemis Fowl would decide that after researching and finding nothing about this Dr. Wolf that he was an agent of the LEP, and force the conversation from his mind.

* * *

**About 40 years later...**

Artemis Short Fowl the Third, also known as Dr. Wolf Ph.D. stepped through the time stream to greet his parents warmly. "Mission accomplished," he grinned.

Shaking his head, Artemis Fowl the Second could only smile back, "I always suspected that you were a LEP agent. But I never knew that you were my own son until you got that scar on your face."

Holly Short Fowl, Wing Commander of Section 8 punched her husband in the shoulder, "So that's why you wouldn't let the Warlocks remove it. Couldn't you have at least told me?"

"I did. You were currently half conscious in Haven General at the time with your own injuries," Artemis replied, winking at her. She scowled, but couldn't stop the grin from appearing anyway.


End file.
